


Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid

by DarknessBound



Series: CanonFest [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Heaven, Angelic Grace Sex (Supernatural), Angelic Grace as Lube (Supernatural), Bratty Dean Winchester, Canon Related, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel's Handprint (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester Wing Kink, Dean Winchester Loves The Impala, Dean Winchester is a Little Shit, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Graveyard Sex, M/M, Minor Ruby/Sam Winchester, Public Scene, Resurrected Dean Winchester, Semi-Public Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, teleporting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26302426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarknessBound/pseuds/DarknessBound
Summary: Dean dies abruptly and wakes up in Heaven. When he finds out their rules outlaw basically 90% of his personality, he gets a little disobedient, and the angels call in the best they've got to rein him in: entire-oak-tree-up-the-ass Castiel.OR/ The real story of how - and more importantly, why - the angel Castiel fell from heaven.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: CanonFest [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911265
Comments: 36
Kudos: 235
Collections: Multi-Chapters, The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Part One: Dark Side of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I took a LOT of liberties with the canon timeline, so don’t look at anything too closely.
> 
> Eternal thanks go to I_Am_The_Blue_Sunshine for their beta skills, support, and breathtaking art which will be in Part Two. I maintain that I don’t deserve you.

####  ****

####  **Dean**

“Don’t worry about where I am, I’m a grown ass man, Sammy.” _That happens to be goin’ to Purgatory to get some dick. Not of your concern, bitch. It’s personal._

“Whatever, jerk.” Sam hung up the phone and Dean slid his phone into his nicest jeans with a grin.

He’d spent so long in the closet he felt like a twenty-nine year old Harry Potter, and he was done hiding... kinda. Sam didn’t need to know.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Dean nodded at a hot guy walking by, but neary chickened out when the man actually stopped to answer him. _Get a grip, you’re going to a damn gay bar to get laid. You can talk to one friggin dude._

“Better now.” The man checked him out, and hell if that didn’t do something to Dean’s ego. He bit his lip and returned the eye sex. “Where are you off to?” 

Dean let his tongue drag across his bottom lip and shrugged. “Wherever the night takes me. Was thinking of checking out Purgatory. Heard it was a nice place to hunt at.” 

“Oh, so you’re a hunter, huh?” The man took another step in.

_Yeah, in more ways than one, buddy_ . “You can say that.” He stood tall as the man reached for his hand and clicked his pen. Dean watched him write his phone number across his palm and sign it with his name. “So, _Matt._ See you around?” 

“I sure hope so.” Matt ran a hand down Dean’s chest and visibly shuddered, once again boosting his ego, and by the time he was walking towards the bar, his confidence was at its peak. _No way I’m not gettin’ laid tonight. Top, bottom, I don’t care, I just need some -_

~~~~

Dean covered his eyes, shielding them from the overwhelming white light. “The hell is happening?!”

Some little twink in a red-and-white striped polo was standing in front of him with a clipboard in his hand. “Dean… Winchester. Again.” He straightened up, letting out a sigh. “You died,” he said bluntly. 

“Aga-” Dean stood straighter and scratched his head. “Died?! Like, I’m dead? And what do you mean _again?!”_

The kid eyed him suspiciously. “Confusion is normal upon arrival, I’m sure you’ll get… some of your memories back soon. You’ve died more than any human I’ve ever heard of, though I doubt you’ll ever remember your previous trips here.” He smiled with his lips closed. “I’m Samandriel. Welcome… _back_ to Heaven.”

“I never died. I would remember dying.” Dean tilted his head in confusion. “Wait, that makes sense. Saman... whatever. This is Heaven? Where’s all the virgins? Besides you.” He looked around. “Personally, I prefer my partners to have experience, and _not_ look like teenage Weenie Hut employees. Sorry, pal.” 

Samandriel cleared his throat and pulled his Weiner Hut hat down a little farther. “That’s not the first time you’ve made that joke, and it’s still not funny. But, I assure you, you _did_ die. You were... smooshed. By a piano falling out of a fourth story window.”

“Smooshed?!”

“Smooshed.” He nodded once, double checking his clipboard.

“ _Smooshed._ Is that the technical term now?” Dean asked sharply. _How can I be dead? I still had unfinished business._ “How’d I get to Heaven anyway? Is my body all mangled under a damn instrument?”

Again, Samandriel sighed. “I find it’s best to meet souls… on _their_ level. Particularly with you, since we’ve been through this so many times now. As far as your other questions… yes, your body was mangled, and you were admitted to Heaven because you’re a hero. For now.” 

Dean grinned proudly and shrugged on his flannel. “Ima hero. So, if I’m such a hero… where’s the triplets and the latex? I mean, a guy has needs.”

“I’m glad you asked, that will make this a lot easier.” Coughing quietly, Samandriel flipped the page on his clipboard and read out loud. “Heaven’s Rules and Regulations. No drinking, no smoking, no drug use of any kind, no swearing, no roughhousing, no yelling, no violence of any kind, no bothering the Guards, and absolutely _no_ sex - unless it’s with your soulmate.” He nodded once, pursing his lips and avoiding making eye contact with Dean. He hesitated, then added quietly, “Failure to comply will result in disciplinary action.” 

“Discipline? Is that when the paddles and latex come into play? Who dishes it out, huh?” _Doesn’t sound like Heaven to me._

His face crumpled with a groan. “It’s _also_ not the first time you’ve made _that_ joke. If you’re unable to follow the rules on your own, you’ll be assigned a… guardian angel, so to speak. Someone that will make sure you stay in line. If you remain in your personal Heaven, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Come on, how is this Heaven? I wasn’t down there followin’ these rules. How’d I make it here if those things are so ‘unholy’? And also, is my guardian angel the one with the whip?” Dean made a whipping sound and flicked his wrist.

For once, Samandriel smiled. “I don’t think you’d like it very much if he was. Your behavior on Earth was forgiven thanks to all of the people you saved. It was a wash, sort of. Anyway, you’re here now. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your personal Heaven.”

“My own personal Heaven… so, there are other Heavens? And it’s possible to go in them, or you wouldn’t tell me not to. Huh...” He followed Samandriel with his hands in his pockets, thinking about the information overload. “If my Baby isn’t here, then I‘m gonna start swingin’, cause this isn’t no Heaven without Baby.”

Sam stopped in front of a door bearing his name. “You are not the first human in history to _not_ have a soulmate. When that happens, we generally go with the closest the human came to finding true love on Earth. So, yes. You’ll find Baby inside.” 

_The only girl for me._ Dean waved at the door impatiently, ignoring the small pang of jealousy toward other people who got to have an actual soulmate. “Alright, let’s do this, Weenie hat.”

~~~~

_How many times have I died? I mean, there was that one time I got friggin electrocuted but I didn’t actually die that time... did I? No, wait, the car crash for sure. M’sorry, Baby._ Dean ran his hand along her upholstery. Fixing her up that time was hell, but worth all the blood, sweat, and tears. _Then there was the time that old dude hit me with his car. I don’t care what Sammy says, I didn’t piss myself._

He remembered dying and being brought back before, but Weenie made it seem like it had happened a _lot._ Dean wondered how many times he’d died without ever realizing, and why the hell was _he_ brought back, if it wasn’t something Sam did. _People die every day and don’t get brought back... or did they? Maybe they do. Geez, I’m gettin’ a headache._ “Can I get some friggin Tylenol?!” He called out as he sat up with a groan. He’d been driving around in Baby for what felt like weeks. _Where the hell_ **_is_ ** _Sam? This is what we do right? Die and come back after some self sacrificing bullshit. It’s his friggin turn._

When he reached for the handle, he realized for the first time that something was off. The army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray wasn’t there, instead there were Legos. “The hell... those were in the vent.” Dean reached to pull the red block out and stepped out into a bright hallway.

_Huh... there’s the door._ He grinned to himself and began roaming the halls, looking at all the name plaques on the never-ending sea of doors. 

Without a goal in mind, he absentmindedly wandered through the _W’s,_ stopping in front of a door labeled Mary Winchester. “Mom...” He ran his finger along the name and then pushed inside, stepping into a grand ballroom. _Mom?_

Dean walked further inside and within moments, he was searching for the exit door. _Not Mom. I dunno who this Mary is, but she is the wrong friggin Mary!_

He finally made his way back to the hallway and read a few more doors. They all said Mary Winchester, the entire hallway. _This is gonna take forever._

####  **Castiel**

There were few things that made Castiel grumpier than guardian duty. It was beneath him, and every angel in heaven knew it. But occasionally, a soul would pass through Heaven’s gate that wasn’t entirely ready to adhere to the rules. When that happened, Castiel was called in to get them in line. 

This was no exception. He’d known the minute Zachariah called him to attention that there was a human soul misbehaving - the only thing he couldn’t figure out was why he hadn’t already heard about it. Usually, for Castiel to be reassigned from the garrison, things had to be bad. 

“You’re needed in the personal Heavens, Castiel.” Zachariah eyed him with the air of someone who had power, but didn’t deserve it. 

“I’m aware of that. Who is it?”

Zachariah smirked. “Dean Winchester.”

The name did nothing for him. “Am I supposed to recognize that name?”

“No, no. Of course not. He hasn’t yet begun to serve his purpose, and you haven’t been available for this sort of thing in quite some time. Let’s just say… it’s good to have you back.”

Castiel nodded once, ignoring the sleazy look on the angel’s many faces. “What are my orders?”

It was the usual spiel. Correct him, control him if needed. Get him back into his own personal Heaven, and above all else, make sure he didn’t interfere with any of the other souls. It seemed to be an easy enough task, though not one part of him was happy about it. _Babysitting bratty souls is not my ideal assignment._

He closed his eyes and tracked the newcomer, this… Dean Winchester. _He even has a brat’s name. Will Zachariah ever quit punishing me?_ Sighing, he made his way toward the personal Heavens, taking on the visage of the vessel he used most often when earthbound. Jimmy Novak’s face was pleasing, and rogue souls often found him easier to deal with than Castiel’s true form. 

Even still, he made himself invisible to the human soul and approached the halls slowly. He needed a chance to scope things out first, to truly get a feel for what he was dealing with before he chose his plan of attack. 

It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for. One of the most gorgeous souls he’d ever seen was walking through a section of doors and opening every single one of them, yelling loudly when he was bodily thrown out of each. His soul shimmered beneath the facade of his skin, and Castiel was temporarily struck dumb. He nearly fell to his knees, but managed to stay upright as his feet carried him closer to Dean. _He’s exquisite… I’ve never seen anything like it. Smoke swirling through a thousand sunsets…_

“Why am I friggin tired?” Dean said, apparently to no one. It was enough to snap Castiel out of his stupor. He continued, “I didn’t think I’d get tired in Heaven, m’already dead. How the hell were there so many damn Mary Winchesters, and where the hell is my mom? And look, now you’re talkin’ to yourself... myself? Whatever, I need a drink.”

Castiel watched with mild fascination bordering on burning need as Dean made his way back to his own Heaven, jiggling the handle of the door until he was swallowed up inside it. He knew he should be grateful that Dean went back where he belonged without any sort of interference, but in the same breath, he was chastising himself for his entirely inappropriate reaction. _Souls like that don’t come around often, it isn’t my fault. It was a surprise, that’s all. And now that it’s out of the way, I can do my job… and that starts with gathering more information._

He set out to find Samandriel, the borderline fledgling that was currently in charge of intake. Castiel found him speaking with another fresh soul and kept his distance until Samandriel was through, then approached slowly. “Samandriel, do you have a moment?”

“Of course, Castiel. I haven’t seen you in almost fifty years, how may I assist you?”

Frowning, Castiel eyed his ridiculous hat. “What do you know about a soul that came in recently - Dean Winchester? He seems to be misbehaving, and Zachariah has seen fit to put me in charge of correcting that. I wish to know more before I engage.”

Samandriel chuckled and set his clipboard aside. “He’s not still going on about whips and paddles is he? I had a feeling he would earn himself a guardian soon, but I had no clue they’d instantly call you in. He must be trouble.”

“I was hoping you could shed some light on that, actually. He was wandering around where he shouldn’t have been, but… I’d have thought if it was bad enough to merit my interference, I’d have heard rumors of him.” Castiel frowned deeper, recalling what Samandriel had said. “What do you mean, whips and paddles?”

“He had a... very distinct view of what Heaven was before arriving. I believe he mentioned virgins and leather. He’s mostly stayed off the radar because he hides well - he was a hunter on Earth. It also isn’t the first time he’s been here to Heaven, though he does not remember those other times.”

Castiel looked down at his outfit, the sour look permanently plastered on his face. “I’m a virgin, and my vessel’s belt is made of leather. I’m failing to see what that has to do with anything, though… I’m sure I’ll learn in due time.” It made sense that Dean was a hunter, those were often the only souls heaven accepted with that much darkness in them. It wasn’t darkness borne of evil, but rather, darkness manifesting due to circumstance. They _had_ to be hardened and a little bit dark to slay monsters. “Is there anything you can tell me about his past stays here? Anything at all that could help me?”

“In the past, he always seemed to search for family. He’s... never at rest, always looking for purpose. There are no monsters here; it is almost as though... he’s lost. The last time he was here, he snuck into Marilyn Monroe’s heaven for...” Samandriel looked around and whispered, “sexual intercourse.” He shook his head and retrieved his clipboard. “If he is sneaking into Heavens, he might be looking for alcohol. As a human, it was his favorite beverage… and he did _not_ like Heaven having rules.”

Blinking, Castiel sucked in a breath he didn’t need. “It’s not an issue, I dealt with the Whore of Babylon, I’m quite certain I can handle Dean Winchester.” He turned to leave, but paused, an unfamiliar twinge of curiosity creeping up his spine. “Did he succeed? With Ms. Monroe, I mean.”

Samandriel looked confused for a moment and then blushed profusely. “Oh... Yes. He does not remember, of course… although Gabriel sometimes plants the memory as a recurring dream for him. Apparently, he... never reaches the finish line.” He laughed smugly. “It’s his penance.”

“He’s gotten Gabriel’s attention?” Castiel focused on Samandriel, suddenly thinking this was a lot bigger than anyone had let on. “I realize I was gone for quite some time, but… how did he manage to end up on an archangel’s radar?”

“They met on Earth. He called him a ‘douche canoe’, although I do not know what that means.” He shrugged and walked to welcome another soul. “Good luck, Castiel.”

Castiel had led his garrison for a longer span of time than a human could even begin to comprehend; he’d never needed luck before, and he wouldn’t need it now. 

He was Castiel, Angel of the Lord… and Dean Winchester _would_ bow. 

####  **Dean**

“Shit is getting old.” Dean closed another _not_ Mary Winchester’s door and decided to take a break on that quest. Each time a door wasn’t hers, he just got more aggravated and that isn’t what Heaven was supposed to be. _None of this is what Heaven should be. This is the friggin Matrix._

Dean left that hallway to search for some fun.

_Wonder if John Bonham is around here. No way a god like that took a trip downstairs. More of a friggin hero than me._

All the doors were distracting, and before he made his way toward the B’s, he came across Jack Daniel’s plaque. _No way he doesn’t have booze._ He knew technically Nathan Green was the one who taught Mr. Daniel his techniques, but he was already too far past the G’s at this point, and frankly, he wanted a damn drink.

He snuck inside, not at all surprised to find an old timey home straight out of Lynchburg, Tennessee. _Do people have shotguns in Heaven? Probably shoot friggin bubbles if they do._ He decided to stay hidden, having no intentions on asking for this liquor, and when he found it, he was nearly caught. 

Once back in the hallway with his mason jar of brown liquid, he took a huge drink and fought every urge to spit it out. _Oh god!_ Dean braced against the nearest wall. **_That_ ** _is gasoline._

It wasn’t, but finding out the original recipe to his favorite drink had been altered so much was nearly disappointing. _Beggars can’t be choosers._

He shrugged and took another swig, walking around aimlessly until the jar was empty.

_“Psst!”_

Dean’s eyes widened and he stopped mid-stride as he wandered past Kurt Cobain’s heaven. He was outdoors in some woodsy area and realized how exposed he really was. “Uh… _psst_ you.” He was pretty drunk at this point, but mostly, he was lonely.

“Come with me if you want to live.” A lanky man in a ski mask waved an arm through the bushes. 

“Yeah, sure, Terminator. Why don’t you show your fugly face?” The man scoffed and pulled off the mask. “Ash?!”

“Way to ruin it, I’ve always wanted to do that bit. And it’s Dr. Badass to you, Winchester. The angels are looking for you, so if you want to get thrown back into your Heaven, that’s your choice, but if not, come with me.” He shook his mullet and Dean decided to go with the flow. 

_M’already dead. And it’s Ash, I trust him… kinda._ “Sorry about… you know…”

“Being the reason I’m dead? I’m cool with it. Now that I'm dead, I'm living, man!” He pushed open some wooden doors and suddenly they were in a bar. 

“The Roadhouse?! This is your heaven?” Dean looked around, amazed. “Even smells the same.”

“Bud, blood, & beer nuts. It's the best smell in the world. Welcome to my blue heaven. PBR?”

“Dude… Yes.” Dean hopped on the barstool and looked around with his first real smile in weeks. “Of all beers though -”

Ash slid him an open cold one and held his out. “My heaven, my rules.” He stabbed the bottom of Dean’s before he could move and they ended up shotgunning the beers together. “Woo! Another one?”

Dean wasn’t about to complain. “So, is it just you here?”

“Right now, yeah. But it’s a party every night in here. I know how to get around undetected. Most people up here are bored, they all come party with Ash eventually. You die more than anyone I have ever met, Dean.”

“Wait, I’ve been here before? I don’t remember.”

“Angels! Must've windexed yer brains.” 

“Comforting.” Dean cracked open another beer as the doors opened and two dudes walked in. Not just dudes, _hot_ dudes. _Shit… will I finally get to fuck a guy? Or will another fucking piano fall on my damn noggin?_

“Buenos dias, bitches.” Ash greeted them and brought them up some glasses.

“Ash, I’ve told you not to call me a bitch. I am an archangel, you Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.” 

_Shit, shit… angel. Is there a backdoor?_

With a smug little smirk, Ash pointed a finger gun at the tall one. “You’re only an arch cause one of ‘um died and you got an upgrade. That’s the equivalent of winning because your opponent got disqualified, amigo.” 

Rolling his eyes, he ran a hand through his long hair then waved a hand to dismiss him. “A win is a win. Who’s this?” 

“Name’s Dean… Dean Winchester. And the roadie joke is supposed to be _my_ bit.” 

“This is Jask. I’m Ares. Are you new here, or did Ash just find you?” Ares was a tad bit shorter than the arch; he had gorgeous heterochromic eyes where one was blue, and the other half blue and half brown. They caught Dean so off guard he didn’t realize he was staring until the archangel cleared his throat. 

“Uh, yeah. M’new, I guess. Ash was a friend of mine downstairs.” The angel didn’t seem to be dragging Dean back to his Heaven, so he began to finally relax. In fact, he could have sworn these two hot dudes were fucking. He stood next to Ares protectively and looked at him as though he was the best thing in the universe. _Maybe they’re lookin’ for a third?_ But based on Jask’s posture, he wasn’t one for sharing. “Hey, why’d they get scotch and I got a friggin PBR?”

“PBR was mandatory for saving your rear out there,” he joked and pulled Dean up a glass.

“Don’t say rear. Thanks.” Dean shot back the scotch and moaned. It was so much better than that gasoline, he instantly slid it back for more. 

Ash obliged, and Dean slammed that one too as Ares looked him over. “You’ve got to be more careful, you know that? You really shouldn’t do things that’ll catch the attention of the angels.”

“Pfft. Not scared of angels.” _This one’s kinda scary but I have a feeling he’s a damn marshmallow deep down._ “Which one got ganked for your promotion, anyway?”

“Raphael,” Jask said, shrugging. “He was an ass, no one misses him. I think the old man put me in his place as an apology for screwing up so royally with Raph. I’m way more fun.” He grinned, leaning over to kiss Ares on the cheek. 

_Yep, definitely fucking._ “I can tell.” Dean shot back another drink and eyed them. “How long you two been…?” He asked, waving his finger between them.

Ares chuckled quietly and leaned in to Jask. “Since before he was some big, bad archangel, that’s for sure. I’ve been dead for a _really_ long time. Few centuries now, you think?” He turned his eyes on Jask, who nodded.

“Longer than that. Took the big guy a while to upgrade me, remember? Awesomeness like this isn’t built overnight.” Jask grinned cheekily, snapping his teeth like he was pretending to bite the bridge of Ares’ nose.

“Oh, so you haven’t always been so cute and cuddly, huh?” Dean chuckled. “Good for you guys. Glad to know some angels believe in free will.”

Jask smiled fondly at Ares as he pulled him into his lap. “I didn’t always. I was one of the worst up here until I met Ares. Took a while, but I came around. Sometimes, we just need to be shown there’s something better out there than blind obedience. Gabe knows it, I know it, Luce knew it. The others, though?” He shook his head. “You better watch yourself, D. I won’t interfere on your behalf, and the angel they’ve put on your tail is a hardass.”

“I gotta angel on my tail already?” The thought made him laugh. “Feathers got another thing comin’ if he thinks I’m easy pickins. Thanks for the heads up, but I think I can handle some basic stick-up-the-ass angel.”

The door to Ash’s heaven opened suddenly, and the hottest tax accountant he’d ever seen walked in. _Holy blue-eyed sex hair..._ Dean blinked, draining his glass like he knew it’d be the last one he ever had, and whispered quickly, “who the fuck is that?”

“That,” Jask chuckled, “is your stick-up-the-ass angel in question. Dean… meet Castiel.”


	2. Part Two: Are You There, God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester

####  **Castiel**

Castiel let out a heavy sigh as he noticed Jaskier sitting next to the human he was supposed to be containing. _Of course, the most incompetent, useless archangel is a part of this._ He walked over to the bar, crossing his arms over his chest. “Aiding and abetting miscreants again, Jaskier?”

“Who me?” Jaskier flashed him an irritating smile and shook his head, feigning innocence. “Just visiting a couple of Heaven’s finest, that’s all.”

Looking at the company he was keeping, Castiel seriously doubted it. 

“Hey there, Castiel. Drink?” Another human asked in an unsure tone, but before he could respond, Dean Winchester himself spoke up.

“Yeah, right. Maybe if you had holy water,” he joked with an infuriatingly enticing grin. Their eyes met for the first time, and Dean slid his tongue across his bottom lip. “Ain’t that right, angel?”

Castiel stared him down, refusing to bend even the slightest bit, despite an unfamiliar urge to do just that. “This is _highly_ inappropriate.”

“I’ll show you inappropriate, buddy.” Dean mumbled with a smirk, then polished off another drink. 

Not at all surprised to find him drunk, Castiel took a few steps forward and snatched the now empty glass from his hand. “The party is over, both of you should be returning to your personal Heavens, and leaving…” he glanced over, searching for any sign of who’s heaven they were actually in. He spotted a door with a wooden sign on it and huffed, unamused, “Dr. _Badass…_ alone.”

Dean chucked when Castiel cursed and then covered his mouth with his palm. “So, not a stick then? Is it an entire oak tree?”

The human in Jaskier’s charge started laughing at the comment, and Castiel squinted at him in confusion. “There are no trees in this Heaven, Dean. It’s a bar, and the wooden fixtures seem to be made of walnut, not oak.”

Dean dramatically looked over at Jask with his hand out, looking incredulous. “Is this guy for real?” He turned back toward Castiel. “Listen... buddy, you’re wound a little tight. How about you take a seat.”

“That’s expressly forbidden, and I must insist you come with me. Immediately.” He stepped aside, allowing Dean room to get up and walk with him.

But of course, he didn’t. “I don’t see a whip, you guys see a whip?” Dean stood and looked inside Castiel’s trench coat, causing him to frown deeply at the intrusion. “See? Nothin’.” He plopped back down on the barstool and waved a finger at the man with the strange hair behind the bar.

Realizing a direct approach and a heavy hand would be necessary, he turned to face Dean. “Is that what it will take?” Castiel raised his hand, a whip appearing in it. “I’m not going to ask you again, Dean. Move, or I _will_ move you.” 

Dean’s eyes widened, but he still didn’t move. He must have realized the bartender decided against serving him another drink, and after a scoff, he stood. “Move me then, _angel.”_

Annoyed for reasons he didn’t quite grasp, Castiel pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead and sent him back to his own heaven, then turned to look at Jaskier. “I highly suggest you do the same with your charge,” he nodded to Ares, “before I get called in for him as well.” He glanced down at the whip in his hand and sent it back to the weapons cache, locking eyes with the bartender. “I won’t be happy if I catch him here again.” 

“I think he got the memo, boss. You have a nice day, now.” He saluted him and turned towards his office.

Jaskier let out a deep laugh. “Good luck with that one, brother. I think you’ve met your match.”

That was doubtful on a lot of levels, but Dean certainly would be a challenge. It was no matter, Castiel was growing complacent in his work - and that was something an angel shouldn’t be, so this might just be the very thing he needed. “I look forward to it.” 

Nodding once to Jaskier and the human he was with, Castiel teleported himself to the Garden. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right with what he’d just walked in on, but also wasn’t entirely sure it was his business. As it was, he took a stern approach to Jaskier despite now being his inferior on paper, and he was hesitant to take it much further than that. _Whatever was going on with him and the human is his business, I have my own things to worry about._

He glanced around the Garden and took a seat, content to remain there until he was needed again. With any luck, Dean would have learned his lesson, but something told him that it wasn’t going to be that simple.   
  


####  **Dean**

_God, that guy was a douchebag... a very hot douchebag, but definitely a douche._ Dean took a short drive, annoyed that his buzz was completely gone. _Asshat must have sucked the alcohol outta my body, just like he did all the fun._ “Got something much bigger you can suck, angel!” He called out as he parked. “Fuck this...”

Dean grabbed the legos and found himself back in that hallway. _Alright, where is Dr. Badass._

It took longer than he had hoped, but he finally found the damn bar and was kinda surprised to see everyone was still there. “Thought you two had somewhere _else_ to be?”

Jask snorted a laugh as Ash slid him a beer. “I don’t answer to him anymore, though it’s cute he thinks I do.” He pulled Ares a little closer and raised his glass to Dean. “You might wanna drink fast, I doubt it’ll be long before he finds you again. Risky move, coming back here.”

“Ehh, not worried about my feathered friend. Thanks, Ash.” Dean grabbed the beer. “If he’s so good, where the hell is he?”

The look on Ares’ face answered the question a moment before the feathered asshat answered it himself, from directly behind him. “I’m right here, Dean. Does that make me _good_ enough for you?” His words were like ice; cold, commanding fucking ice, and Dean paused with the beer hovering near his lips. 

_Dammit. Couldn’t even have a beer!_ “Uh, hiya, Cas. Long time no see.”

This time, he wasn’t fingerbanged back to his own heaven. No, Cas grabbed him by the back of the jacket and hauled him up with ease, bodily carrying him out of Ash’s heaven as Ash howled with laughter. The moment they were in the hallway, Cas set him down, but pointed toward the hallway’s exit. “Walk. Now.”

“You can at least buy a guy dinner before you manhandle him.” Dean fixed his flannel and stood tall. “What if I don’t? Gonna throw me back in my car, man? I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

Tilting his head, Cas looked him up and down with a smug expression. “No,” he started. “I’ve got other plans for you. First of all, dead men don’t wear plaid.” He blinked, and Dean was suddenly standing in an orange prison jumpsuit. “Something tells me that’s not the first time you’ve worn one of those. Maybe a stay in Heaven’s cells will do you some good. Now, _walk.”_

“Friggin’ kidding me!” Dean moved his hands and found them handcuffed in front of him. “Cool it, Houdini! This is crossin’ the line. No way what I did earned prison time!”

“You disobeyed a direct order from an angel, you’ve broken several of Heaven’s codes of conduct, and… you irritate me. I’d say that’s more than adequate.” Cas gripped him by the cuffs and dragged him forward, parading him past a group of angels. 

Every damn one of them turned to look at Dean, which made his entire upper body flush with embarrassment. By the time they got to the actual cell block, he was almost happy for it - at least now he wasn’t in anyone’s line of sight. “How bout _I_ bring the handcuffs and whips next time, handsome?”

Cas ignored him entirely as he guided Dean into the cell and slammed the bars shut. He moved a few feet back to stand against the wall like a damn statue. “Before you even ask, you’ll remain here until I’m convinced you’ve accepted your role here and have agreed to behave.”

“Yeah, sure. Loud and clear, Cas.” Dean began his pacing, already having anxiety in the cold, small cell. _Fine, let’s play the silent game._

Silence indeed stretched on, and Dean sat down on the solitary bench with his head in his hands until a low, annoying voice started singing. “Nobody knows, the trouble I’ve seen… nobody knows my sorrow.” 

“Enough, Metatron,” Cas snapped. “Don't engage with him.”

“I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts… deedle-dee dee, there they are all standing in a row...” Dean began to sing back, but then paused. “Wait, did you say Megatron? The Transformer?”

Sighing, Cas shook his head. “I don’t understand that reference, but no. Me _ta_ tron, not Megatron.” 

“I don’t understand that reference,” Metatron mocked. “Can it, _Asstiel._ This place is miserable enough without you being so.. _you.”_ The last word was said with contempt, but the only reaction Cas gave was an eye roll and a slight shift of his posture. 

_“Asstiel?!_ Ha! I like this guy. What’d you do, Me _ta_ tron?” Dean walked over and leaned his hands out of the bars. “Did you smile on a Tuesday?”

“A Thursday, actually.” He tipped a non-existent hat to Dean. “Apparently, the _Angel_ of Thursday over here wasn’t a fan.”

Cas glared at him. “You were imprisoned for crimes against Heaven, Hell, _and_ humanity. And I wasn’t the one who locked you up.”

“Course he wasn’t. What’s a guy gotta do to make stick-in-the-mud here smile? Most people bend to my will with one flash of a smile, I dunno how to work with a friggin statue, and apparently being annoying means jail time up here beyond the Pearly Gates.”

Metatron let out a huff. “If ya ask me, he needs to get laid. Trade the stick in the ass for a di-” he cut himself off abruptly, holding up both hands and backing away from the bars at the look on Cas’ face. “Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion. Don't get your wings in a twist.” 

_Well, let me just volunteer as friggin tribute._ “I’d be more than happy to be of service, Cas. You know, I was on my way to fuck a dude when I got pancaked. I could help _you_ out... if you let _me_ out.” Dean turned up the charm and winked, letting his eyes rake the angel’s frame.

“Fornicating is expressly forbidden, and both of you know that. And while I can understand why you’re doing it, Dean, flattery will get you... nowhere.” Cas tilted his chin up a little and bristled, pretty much negating everything he’d just said. 

“Fornicating?” _Geez, this guy is like a seventh grade sex-ed teacher._ “And why is bumpin’ uglies forbidden? Ever wonder that, Cas. Could it be that Heaven - our friggin ‘paradise’ - isn’t so heavenly at all? I mean why are we even here if it isn’t to be happy? Coulda stayed on Earth if I wanted to be miserable.” As if death was his choice, but he was trying to make a point. He watched Castiel’s expression, looking for _any_ indication that he was listening - not just hearing - truly listening.

He just tilted his head like a damn puppy that didn’t understand why it was being scolded. “You’re saying you’re only able to be happy if you’re intoxicated and engaging in meaningless intercourse?”

“Meaningless? I take it you’ve never played some five on one?” Dean wiggled his fingers at Cas and huffed a laugh when it was obvious he didn’t understand that reference, either. He did a jack off motion, waiting for the lightbulb to click. “Geez man, you need to get off. Wanna watch me? Maybe you’ll understand.” He ran his hand down his stomach, slowly inching closer and closer to his prize while staring intently into Castiel’s eyes.

Metatron fucking cackled, and if that wasn’t a mood killer, Dean didn’t know what was. Cas blinked, his eyes lingering on Dean’s hand for a moment before looking away. “It’s forbidden.”

It took a great effort, but Dean decided not to engage with the off-brand Transformer and slid his jumpsuit off his shoulders, letting it rest around his waist. 

Metatron whistled, and Dean really wished they were alone. He suddenly wondered how powerful angels really were, and if it was possible to communicate without talking. He took a chance and thought as loudly as he could, _‘If it’s so forbidden... why do you want it?’_

Based on Cas’ reaction, he heard. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he glanced back over toward Dean, taking in the sight of him half exposed and presenting himself. Something predatory flashed in his eyes and he waved a hand, cutting Metatron off from view. “What will you do now, Dean? With no one to show off for but me?”

“Even better.” Dean nearly chickened out, but there was something challenging in Cas’ eyes he couldn’t shake. 

Maybe he didn’t have the balls to pull his dick out, but he slid his hand inside and gripped his length, still watching Castiel. _‘The show was for you, angel.’_

Cas could posture all he wanted, he was hard under those holy tax accountant pants. Like _real_ hard. His eyes were fixed to Dean’s crotch, his pupils blowing and his giant, white wings springing out. 

_‘Why is this so fucking hot?’_ Dean slid his thumb over his tip and bit his lip. _‘How much can you hear, Cas? The tip of my cock is dripping... you wanna taste?’_ He pictured his throbbing length in his palm, seeing if he could Jedi-mind-trick the image into Cas’ head.

The angel closed his eyes like he was trying to pin the image there, his fingers twitching dangerously close to his own crotch. Dean continued, _‘Mmmm you like that, huh? Are you tempted to come in here, Castiel?’_ Dean's cock was fully hard in his hand, and stroking the length was becoming more and more difficult. _‘Can I take it out for you?’_ He forced the fact that he's never done anything like that with a man out of his mind so he could feel confident. _‘Open your eyes.’_

For a moment, it looked like he was going to, but then… the fucker disappeared completely. 

He should have been ashamed or embarrassed, but he couldn't find it in him at that moment. _Don't look over here fake Megatron, I need this release_. Dean pulled himself out of his jumpsuit, letting the fabric hang just below his plump ass and began stroking feverishly. 

When he felt himself right on the edge, he stopped, squeezing the base of his cock with a near painful groan. _‘Goddammit... doesn't feel right to come without you, angel.’_ He knocked his fist against the cement wall, frustrated with the edging, but something told him it was worth it. Something told him Cas was at the very least, listening. _‘Maybe next time, handsome.’_ Dean shoved his throbbing cock back inside his boxers and dropped down to begin doing push ups, needing to get edge off in any way that he could. _I wasn't cut out for prison._

####  **Castiel**

Castiel stared, his jaw slack, as Dean started doing push-ups. He’d stayed there, invisible, unable to pull himself away during Dean’s little show - and the fact that he stopped shy of _something_ filled Castiel with a burning curiosity that he couldn’t get a grip on. It was a foreign feeling, as was the straining pressure in his vessel’s slacks. Before he could stop himself or realize the consequences, Castiel spoke. “If you don’t believe you were cut out for it, perhaps you should agree to behave.” He barely recognized his own voice, it was thick and low, much lower than normal. 

When Dean jerked his head toward where Castiel was standing, he panicked, then teleported himself to the Garden. He walked slowly, trying to ignore the bulge that was making it difficult to walk. 

"Hello there, Castiel. What brings you to the Garden?" Ezekiel asked, approaching him from behind. "You seem troubled, brother."

He pulled Ezekiel quickly to the side, away from the other angels. “Have you ever…” He wasn’t sure how else to put it, so he repeated the same motion he’d seen Dean using. 

"Is there something wrong with your arm?" Ezekiel reached out for him, a confused look upon his face. "I do not sense an injury, Castiel."

A little put out, he tried again. “No, no. I’m not injured, although… my… vessel’s penis is behaving strangely. It’s… this,” he said, more urgently, exaggerating the up and down motion with his hand. 

"Oh..." Ezekiel's eyes widened. "Perhaps you need a new vessel? I do not suggest ripping it off, brother." He was whispering and looking around as they spoke. "My vessel's just hangs there, I do not understand why yours is pointing.”

“Dean’s was… pointing. And he was…” again, he jerked his fist up and down in the air. “But I… I’m afraid I don’t understand. He made it appear that it was making him feel good, but he stopped, and it was obvious after that it made it worse. He’s very agitated now.” Castiel looked down at his crotch. “I don’t want to be agitated.”

"You already seem very agitated, brother." His eyes went down toward his erection again and then back up awkwardly. "You said he stopped... but was feeling good? What exactly happens at the end? I find myself… agitated sometimes as well, perhaps you can let me know if it helps you?"

Castiel sighed, shaking his head. “If it’s what I suspect, it’s forbidden here. Can I ask you something?” He glanced around, then pulled Ezekiel deeper into the shadows. Arguably, Ezekiel was the closest thing he had to a friend, and he didn’t know what else to do. 

"Most things are forbidden here but some are inevitable." Zeke offered a small smile. "Of course you can."

“Do you believe the end justifies the means? We’ve always been taught that, but do you… do you believe that breaking a few rules can be justified if the end result is a restoration of order?” Castiel licked his lip, focusing intently on Ezekiel. 

"I do, yes. As long as you seek penance. It is not why we have free will?" Ezekiel asked curiously.

He’d been afraid that was the answer, and decided if he’d gotten this far, he might as well go the distance. Castiel paused as he tried to find the right words, most of which were taken directly from Dean’s mind one of the many times Castiel had freely perused his thoughts. “And… what do you suppose my penance would be for… ‘fucking the brat’ out of Dean Winchester?” 

Ezekiel stood taller and looked around quickly. "Intercourse? Yes, you would have to do penance and ask for forgiveness..." he shifted uncomfortably. "Do you think that would work? To get the human in line? It is a great risk, Castiel."

“I frankly don’t know what else to do. He doesn’t listen, and the more stern I try to be, the more… _suggestive_ he gets. I put him in jail, and he…” Castiel swallowed, unable to put that deliciously sinful scene into words. “I think I need to do penance already, anyway. My thoughts are… incredibly impure.”

"That sounds wise. I've never heard you this way, brother. If the human remains a problem, Naomi is another option. I've never met anyone she couldn't get in line. Her methods are extreme, but perhaps the boy deserves it."

Horror turned to a strange sense of protectiveness inside of Castiel, and he shook his head quickly. “No. I mustn’t let that happen… Naomi is… no. Dean doesn’t deserve that.” _No one with a soul that beautiful deserves Naomi._ “He was put in my care, and I will take care of him, whatever that entails.”

"Good luck, Castiel. Zachariah has already told her of the human; they may have a different view of what Dean deserves. I hope he falls in line soon. Is there anything else I can help with? Your penis seems to have righted itself."

Funnily enough, that issue resolved the moment Ezekiel had mentioned Naomi. All it took was a single thought - a single vision of Naomi torturing Dean - for whatever was happening to stop. Castiel shook his head, taking a single step back. “No, that will be all. Thank you, Ezekiel… As always, you’ve been helpful. I trust this will stay between us?”

"Of course. I will tell no one of your... pointing, nor your impure thoughts. You take care, brother." Ezekiel nodded and walked further into the garden.

Trusting that Dean would be safe in Heaven’s prison, Castiel headed for the Gate. Maybe spending a few days on Earth would make some things a little more clear. 

~~~~

“Have you learned your lesson yet?” Castiel asked, leaning against the wall opposite Dean’s cell. 

Dean was doing sit ups and laid back with his arms and legs spread before responding. “Yeah. I was a very, _very_ naughty boy. Can I go back to my Heaven now?"

“Are you going to behave if I let you out? Stay inside of your Heaven?” 

“I... yes.” He sat up and met Cas’ eyes. “Will you stay there with me? Or whoosh off somewhere but still listen to my thoughts?”

That seemed like an odd request, certainly one he’d never received before. “Are you going to continue to insist you need to have intercourse?”

“I do.... and so do you. Listen, buddy. If God didn’t want us to get laid, he wouldn’t let you guys walk around lookin’ like that. Maybe keep that in mind? But yeah, I’ll ease up on the jackin’ off while you’re around.”

Castiel nodded, understanding this was Dean’s way of meeting him somewhere in the middle. “Then yes. I’m assigned to you for the foreseeable future, so… if you’re requesting my presence in your Heaven, and that will _keep_ you there, then I accept.” He reached forward, using his grace to unlock the cell door. “Come, Dean.”

Dean stared with his eyes wide a moment before walking out of his cell. “See ya later, Metatron. Your revenge secrets are safe with me... Oh, oops.” With a shrug, he started down the hall, singing a tune Castiel didn’t recognize.

Following with a curious expression, they made it back to Dean’s Heaven and entered, both of them transported to the front seat of a vehicle. Castiel had done his due diligence and knew this was the vehicle Dean drove on Earth, but it fascinated him that something as mundane as a car would become such a big part of him. Cas straightened up in the passenger seat and fixed his tie. “Where do you like to go?”

“I dunno. I just like to drive. So far it’s just been endless road. Is there a way to pick where I’m goin’?” He started her up and bit his lip, a grin spreading across his face.

The movement was… endearing, in ways Castiel hadn’t expected. “Of course. This is _your_ Heaven, Dean. It… is what you make of it. Hence why Ash gets away with alcohol. All you need to do is will something into existence, and chances are… you’ll get it.”

“Oh...” Dean closed his eyes tightly, like he was concentrating really hard and then willed himself a burger. “Fuck yes!” He unwrapped it quickly and began stuffing his face.

Castiel smiled despite himself, then shook his head. “Less than five minutes in and you’re already breaking rules again.” Profanity was low on the list, but it was still a violation, even if it was technically permitted within the walls of a personal heaven. 

“What did I do now? Enjoy something?” He shook his head and took another bite, moaning at the flavor. “You want one?”

He was too distracted by the changes the burger brought on in Dean’s soul to even answer. It thrummed, the colors brightening and swirling. “I…” he forced his eyes to the front again, studying the road. “No, angels can’t taste the way that humans can.”

“Course not. Food is nearly as good as sex, can’t be enjoyin’ things right? Your daddy doesn’t take kindly to happiness, huh?”

Frowning, Castiel considered that. “It’s not an angel’s purpose to be happy.” 

“Sounds kinda sad... and lonely. You got a nice smile, so it’s also a damn shame.” He closed his eyes and the mess disappeared, instantly replaced with a soda. “Look, soda. Not breakin’ any rules right?”

“Right,” Castiel agreed, deciding not to remind him he could break the rules in his own Heaven. He fidgeted with his tie, ignoring the strange tug behind his navel that was usually reserved for when he was getting dangerously close to disobeying. _Odd,_ he thought to himself, his eyes drifting naturally back to Dean’s soul. _Odd indeed._

####  **Dean**

They drove in silence a while, singing along to Zeppelin. It wasn't often Dean hung out with someone who didn’t already know his favorite rock band, so he actually enjoyed sharing some magic with Cas. He put Dean back in his jeans after he complained how uncomfortable the prison jumpsuit was, and Dean finally began to feel some peace. 

Unfortunately, it only lasted so long. Within hours, Dean was restless. Having a hot guy riding shotgun wasn’t something that happened often either, and it had been _way_ too long since he’d gotten off.

It was nearly impossible back at the prison. Metatron was decidedly less fun than he anticipated by their first encounter, and within days, his voice made Dean’s skin crawl. 

But now that they were here, in Baby. Dean found himself wanting to just... know more. “So, Cas... tell me about yourself.”

“I’m not very interesting, I’m afraid.” Cas smiled a little, his posture still way too damn stiff. “I was a warrior, and now… I do whatever is needed of me.” 

“That sounds interesting to me. I imagine you feel kinda how I do then. You had a purpose and now you’re just... there.” He didn’t mean to get deep, but not long ago he was considered a warrior as well, and now here he was, following directions. Directions from a guy that never showed his face.

“I never thought of it like that,” Cas said quietly. “But you’re not wrong. I led my garrison, and now… I watch the likes of Jaskier get elevated to archangel status and Zachariah gets to give me orders. Frankly, it makes me wish for another war. Did you ever feel like that? On Earth?”

Dean huffed a laugh. “My war was never done. You woulda made a good hunter.” His hands gripped the steering wheel. “Then why? Why listen to that douche Zachariah, God doesn’t speak to him. Who even made him the boss?”

“I imagine it was Michael. It’s not my responsibility to ask questions, only to follow the orders.” Cas slowly tilted his head toward Dean and stared at him so intently it was almost creepy. “They’re... not always bad.”

Dean pulled the car over and shifted so his leg was on the seat. “It doesn’t matter if they’re not all bad, Cas. You should have a choice. Everyone deserves a choice.”

“That simply isn’t how it works. Angels weren’t… wired for free will the way that humans were. Not entirely, anyway.” 

“If that weren’t the case, why do you feel longing... or desire. Why even give you the ability to ‘wish’, if you weren’t allowed to ever fulfill a wish?” _I just confused myself._

Cas frowned again, deeper this time. “Who said I do?”

“Uh? _you._ ‘It makes me wish for another war’.” He lowered his voice annoyingly. “That’s a wish. Maybe you don’t wish for burgers or... an ass to slide your dick in, but you have desires, just like me. So, in my book, you deserve choice. If you can die, you should be allowed to live.”

“That’s quite profound. I hadn’t thought about it like that, but… it doesn’t change the purpose of my creation. Maybe it doesn’t seem fair to someone like you, but to me? Heaven is all I’ve ever known. Obedience is all I’ve ever known.” Cas studied him still, his eyes somewhere around the middle of Dean’s chest. “I'm… sorry that you’re not happy here. I hope that with time, you’ll be at peace.”

“And will _you_ ever be happy here, Cas? Whatever, no use beatin’ a dead horse. Can I ask you for a favor?” _Might as well be teachin’ poetry to fish._

From the look on his face, the poor guy didn’t even know what happiness felt like at all. He nodded once, his back straightening like the change in subject snapped him back to soldier mode. “You may ask.”

“Are you allowed to zap around downstairs at all? I’m just worried about Sammy... Sam Winchester, my little brother.” He had no clue what Cas knew about him. “I don’t think I’ll ever find peace not knowin’ he’s okay. Can... you check on him?”

Cas pursed his lips like he was gonna say no, then turned his head to look out the window. “And you say this will bring you peace?”

“I dunno. But I know it ain’t helping how I feel right now.” _I just gotta know he’s okay._ Dean sighed and scratched his head. “I kinda hope he found somethin’ to hold on to.“

Slowly, Cas brought his gaze back to Dean’s face. “Then yes, I’ll go. Do you have any idea where he might be? Angels have methods of tracking humans, but… it will be easier if you can narrow it down for me.” 

“You don’t got super tracking powers?” Dean reached over Cas’ lap to get in the glove box and pulled out a notepad. He scribbled the address to the last place they’d stayed and handed Cas the paper. “Here’s where he was when I... got roadrunner’d on the way to a gay bar. I dunno if he’ll still be there but... it’s a start.” When Cas grabbed the paper, Dean held his hand until he met his eyes. “Thanks, Cas.”

He bristled, then pulled his hand back and tucked the paper in his trench coat. “We do. We can locate any human that isn’t protected by Enochian sigils, but I find it’s better to be prepared in the event that your brother knows we exist. Not to mention, having the address written in your handwriting might help me prove to him that I’m not there to harm him.”

“Let me write him a note then.” He did a ‘gimme’ motion and couldn’t help but laugh as he wrote out _‘cut your friggin hair’_ on the paper, and then slid it back in Cas’ pocket.

He sat there for a moment longer and then disappeared, leaving Dean alone with Baby and an entirely empty street. 

_Awesome. Alone again,_ he thought bitterly as he laid out for a nap. He didn’t particularly need one, he just… wanted one. It wasn’t until hours later that he decided it was a good time to jack off. _Cas will probably be back soon._

~~~~

After a few days, Dean assumed that Cas just wasn’t coming back. _You scared him away with your sinful human thoughts._ He rolled his eyes, feeling even more lonely this time than the last. What was taking so long? Was it possible something happened to Sam and Cas didn’t know how to tell him?

To be sure, Dean snuck out and searched the hallways again. Not finding a door for Sam made him feel slightly better as he walked back toward his own Heaven, but he still couldn’t think of a reason why Cas would be taking so long. 

Being able to jack off freely was nice, and he took every opportunity to rub one out, but he had a strange feeling he was being watched. The first few times he put on a show but by the fifth day, he was just stroking out of boredom. If anyone _was_ watching, it wasn’t his guardian angel. _Thanks for abandoning me, Asstiel._

####  **Castiel**

_I liked Cas better,_ he thought to himself a little bitterly. He’d spent five days trying to locate Sam Winchester and couldn’t find him, which meant he was either in Purgatory - the real one, not the one Dean died trying to get to - or he’d discovered the existence of angels and was actively trying to keep them away. Either way, he hadn’t stopped looking until he was sure he was out of other options, and had come back to tell Dean he’d failed when he’d heard the thought about abandonment. 

On the surface, Cas knew that wasn’t something he should feel guilty for. Technically speaking, he’d never promised Dean a specific timeline, nor did he owe him anything. But something about his tone and the ferocity of Dean’s thought had Cas wanting to prove him wrong, and also wanting to return with good news. 

Against his better judgement, he sought out the archangel Jaskier. He found him, as usual, in Ash’s heaven wrapped around the human he’d since come to know as Ares Montague. All heads turned toward him as he entered, and Ash held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, man. I seem to be fresh out of rogue Winchesters, you’ll have to come back later.”

Cas shook his head, ignoring him completely as he turned to the archangel. “I need your help with a human.”

“Oh, do ya now?” came Jask’s amused reply. “What’s the matter, Castiel? Can’t find the right porn to teach you how to deal with Dean?”

“No,” he said sternly. “I should have been more specific. I need your help _tracking_ a human, and it’s not Dean. It’s Sam, Sam Winchester. I haven’t been able to locate him on my own, and Dean believes it will bring him peace to know that his brother is doing well.”

Jask tapped Ares’ side to get him to move, then slid off the barstool and fixed his long hair up in a bun. “It’s gonna cost you, but we can talk about payment a little later. Give me roughly eight seconds.” He disappeared, leaving Cas alone with Ares and Ash, but returned just as Cas was opening his mouth to break the silence. “Done.”

Cas squinted, shifting slightly on his feet. “What do you mean, ‘done’? How…?”

“My methods aren’t really your concern, but suffice it to say he’ll have to try a lot harder than that to hide from me.” Jask relayed Sam’s exact location and then sat back down, pulling Ares back onto his lap. For a brief, strange moment, Cas imagined himself sitting on one of those stools with _Dean_ sitting on him, but shook those thoughts away quickly as he thanked Jaskier for his help and headed back toward the gate. 

~~~~

Thanks to Jaskier, he found Sam almost instantly once setting foot on Earth. Suddenly, many things became clear. He was holed up in a seedy motel room with a demon, and at that precise moment, it looked like he was drinking her blood. It was foul, and Castiel nearly broke down the door right then to put a stop to it - but he hadn’t been given orders to intervene, and therefore, he couldn’t. _Not that I should want to, anyway,_ he reminded himself. This was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission to help him fulfill the order he was already given, not something he should be getting personally involved with. _At least her presence explains how he learned about angels in the first place._

For the next few days, he followed Sam. It didn’t appear he was hunting any longer, not beyond a single trip to a diner where he took out a handful of demons by himself, but the most shocking thing he witnessed was _how_ it happened. Sam had used his bare hands, and what looked like actual powers to effectively smite the demons. It felt wrong on a base level, and again, Castiel found himself fighting the urge to kill the demon Ruby and put Sam back on the correct path. 

On the morning of the sixth day, Cas followed him to a cemetery. It only took a few moments to realize whose grave they were visiting, and Cas watched with a foreign sense of sadness in his chest as Sam spoke to Dean’s headstone. “So get this, I’m strong enough to take out a room full of demons at once now. I know you’d hate the method, but… I think you’d be proud of me, anyway. It’s been a lot harder to hunt without you, but using this, these _gifts_ , a-and Ruby? I can almost make up the difference. I haven’t stopped looking for a way to get you back, though. Maybe once I get stronger, I’ll be able to bring you back myself.” 

_Doubtful, demons don’t have the power to drag a soul back from Heaven, unless they’re an extremely powerful crossroads demon… which you are not._

Sam turned slowly, as if he could hear Castiel’s thoughts, which should have been impossible. Choosing not to engage at all, Cas teleported himself back to the motel room next to Sam and Ruby’s. He didn’t feel right about going back to Dean without better news than that, and was hoping that maybe another day or so would lend him something useful to report. 

In the hours it took Sam to return, Cas replayed his time with Dean, and Jaskier’s comments about pornography snuck in. It took him longer than he’d ever admit to figure out how to work the remote on the television, but after channel surfing for a couple of minutes, he landed on something that immediately struck him as odd. A man had a woman on her knees, naked, with her hands tied behind her back, and was feeding her something from the tip of a knife. His body seemed to be responding the same way Cas’ vessel had when Dean was in heaven’s prison, and she… she was obeying him fully, every inch of her figure suggesting supplication. _That is what I need from Dean… is this…?_ He watched intently until again, his vessel started responding. Cas laid back on the bed and pressed his palm over his growing length, his wings twitching in curiosity. He was on Earth, and as such, the rules weren’t quite as strict for angels. He could allow himself this moment of exploration, just to fill in some of the blanks and help him understand Dean a little better. 

Slowly, he undid his belt and plucked open the button on his slacks, pushing the sides of his trench coat out of his way. He watched as the man on the screen put down his knife and wrapped his hand around his penis, doing something quite similar to the hand-motion Dean had done. It suddenly clicked in Cas’ brain, and he copied the strokes, letting out a soft moan as pleasure started building in his gut. Thoughts of Dean crept in, and Cas moved his hand faster, imagining that gorgeous, disobedient soul falling to his knees in supplication as Cas stripped himself bare before him. The thought was dirty, unholy, unclean - but instead of making him stop, it only caused him to get louder. 

A bang on the wall behind his bed had him stopping abruptly, sitting bolt upright and getting redressed in a snap as he tried to control his ragged breathing. He chose to ignore the fact that he shouldn’t need to breathe at all, and quickly teleported himself back to Heaven’s gate. He felt strangely lightheaded when he arrived, and there was a tug near his crotch that suggested he’d stopped too soon, but that couldn’t be helped. He shouldn’t have gone down that road to begin with, but at least now, he thought he had a way to get Dean to behave… and that would have to be good enough. 

~~~~

When he entered Dean’s heaven and appeared in the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean jerked up and slapped the steering wheel. “Dammit, Cas. Where have you been?”

“Mostly on Earth, first locating and then stalking your brother. I was attempting to do a thorough job, I thought you’d appreciate that.” Cas couldn’t help but notice the tension in Dean’s soul, the way the previously still colors were swirling almost wildly. “Did I... do something wrong?”

“I thought... I dunno.” He pulled the car over and sighed. “No, you didn’t do nothin’ wrong, but you coulda checked in, Cas. I thought you left me... or Sam was dead and you didn’t know how to tell me.”

Cas shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you’d want me to come back before I was finished.” He decided not to tell Dean that he’d done exactly that, since he hadn’t shown himself, and something told him that admission would only make things worse. “Sam is alive, although… I can’t say that he’s doing well.” Before Dean could even ask, Cas launched into a detailed explanation of what he saw, what he witnessed. By the time he finished, the colors of Dean’s soul were dulled, being overtaken by the smoke. 

His white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel looked almost painful as he stared at the open road ahead. After a long five minutes of tense silence, he spoke. “How can I help him?”

“You can’t,” Cas said quietly. “You’re dead, Dean. And I know your instinct is to don your flannel and work boots and save the day, but… this time, I don’t think it’s going to be possible.” 

Dean just stared at him with a frown, looking like he had a million things to say but didn’t say anything at all. He started driving again, this time much faster. It was as if the rumble of the car was the only thing keeping him from going insane. 

They drove for hours before Dean spoke again, and this time, he pulled off the road so quickly dirty clouded around them. “Cas, you gotta get me outta here. Please? I just need to see somethin’ new.”

It was wildly against protocol, but Cas knew enough about Dean to know that if Cas didn’t take him, he’d simply escape and go on his own, anyway. He nodded once, then led Dean out of his heaven and toward the Garden. “Stay close to me.”

“Where are we?” Dean looked around, the sun shining so brightly in his green eyes that he had to shield them and blink to adjust, which was a grave injustice. Even an angel could admit that Dean’s eyes were exquisite works of art, and were nearly as beautiful as his soul. It wasn’t often a human was truly that gorgeous both inside and out, and it had Cas feeling a little bit off kilter. 

“We’re in the Garden, Dean. But only you know what that looks like to you. It looks different to everyone.”

“Looks like the Botanical Garden in Cleveland.” Dean looked around curiously. “Dad brought us here as a ‘school trip’, but really he was just hunting a wraith. Sammy wandered off and I practically shit myself tryin’ ta find him. He hid...” he started walking, looking around for a specific spot, “right there.” With a shake of his head, he smiled at the spot as the memories flashed before his eyes. “Wait, what are those?” 

Cas followed Dean’s gaze and struggled for a moment to figure out what he was talking about, and then it hit him. “Oh. They’re the Guards. Angels, specifically created to watch over the Garden. They’re a bit like the Queen’s Guards in England, you may have heard of them.”

“Uh... yeah. May have heard a thing or two.” Dean walked over and stood before one, staring at the angel with his head tilted. “Hey there, Beefeater. You not allowed to smile either?”

The Guard didn’t react, and Cas raised a single eyebrow as he watched. “I assure you, none of your usual antics will get a rise out of them. They’re highly trained, extremely dedicated angels. He probably doesn’t even realize you’re there.”

“Pfft.” Dean walked in closer so their faces were only inches apart. “Where’s your fuzzy black hat, buddy?” He ruffled his hair and smiled when the angel frowned. The Guard remained staring ahead, but it was very obvious he _did_ know that Dean was there, and Dean knew it, too. 

He walked around to blatantly check out the angel’s ass and did a confusing shrug, like maybe he liked what he saw. Cas shifted, clearing his throat. “Dean, step away from him.”

“Why? He doesn’t know I’m here right? Kinda has a nice ass, but I won’t touch.” He held up his hands and did a strange hip thrusting motion that made Castiel simultaneously angry and turned on, two things angels shouldn’t be. 

He teleported next to Dean and grabbed him by the throat with one hand, slamming him backward until Dean hit the wall. Cas held him there and lowered his voice, his jaw clenched. “I told you to _behave.”_

“Ah!” Dean attempted to move out of Castiel’s grip, but he refused to budge. “C’mon, Cas. I’m doin’ everythin’ you’ve asked. I haven’t had one friggin drink in over a week. I’m a damn human, meet me halfway!” He struggled again and then huffed a deep laugh. “If this was supposed to get my mind outta the gutter, it isn’t workin’.”

The scene from the television came to his mind and Cas tilted his head, eyeing Dean’s body and the rapidly growing bulge in his pants. “You want a drink? Fine, but we’re doing it my way.” He kept his grip on Dean’s neck and teleported them to Ash’s heaven, then set Dean down a little roughly. “On your knees, _human.”_

“On my -” Dean blushed and looked around the bar. Everyone was looking in shock, and after a moment, he shrugged and dropped down. “Alright then. Any other commands, angel?” He smirked and stared up at Castiel through his eyelashes before clasping his hands behind his back.

It floored Cas in ways he didn’t understand, but was slowly coming to the conclusion he’d very much like to. He waved a hand at Ash, not taking his eyes off of Dean. “I need a cocktail. Something with a lot of real fruit, perhaps.” 

“I don’t really keep none of that foofy stuff around here, boss, but I got some cherries.” He put a bunch of cherries in a glass cup and filled it with a clear liquid. 

“Ugh, vodka? C’mon, Ash.” Dean looked back down at the ground, and the flush across his nose and cheeks was absolutely stunning.

Cas’ angel blade appeared in his hand and he stabbed it into the glass, spearing one of the cherries as he took a seat on the barstool closest to Dean. He held the blade out, a couple of inches in front of Dean’s mouth, and smirked. “Eat.”

Dean blinked in surprise and then slowly inched forward to bite the cherry off the blade. He kept their eyes locked as he swallowed the fruit and licked his lips. “Bet you taste even better, Cas.”

_So beautiful like this, even if he is a cannibal._ “Hush.” Cas repeated the motion with a fresh cherry, this time keeping the blade even further away to make him work for it. He turned his attention back to Ash and the others, daring them to say something. “Carry on, he’s not for you to look at. I simply didn’t have access to alcohol anywhere else.”

Dean leaned forward to take the cherry, not glancing at the others. Jaskier had a knowing grin, and he pulled his human onto his lap to whisper something in his ear before they disappeared. Ash busied himself at his laptop screen, none of them daring to interfere.

Castiel looked back down at his human, his eyes instantly seeing the bulge in his jeans. “Good, Dean. You’re so good when you want to be, so why do you insist on being a brat?” He stabbed another cherry and held it right to Dean’s lips this time, angling the blade to push the fruit into his mouth. 

Dean slid his tongue along the cherry before eating it, sending a shiver of what was unmistakably lust up a Cas’ spine. “Maybe I just wanna be good for you.”

Feeling the moment his resolve broke and being strong enough to stop it were two entirely different things. Cas stood quickly, forsaking the glass of cherries and hauling Dean to his feet, their faces so close together he could feel Dean’s breath. “And will you, _boy?_ Will you be good for me?” 

“Y-yeah, Cas. I’ll be good for you.” He leaned in further to whisper in Castiel’s ear, “but good boys get rewards, big guy. I think you know...” Dean didn’t say the next few words out loud, but Castiel heard them loud and clear in his mind: _‘exactly what I need.’_

Cas growled low, not hesitating even long enough to be surprised by the sound before he teleported them to Dean’s heaven and bent him face-first over the hood of his own car. “You’re right, Dean, I do know. And if this is the only way to get you to behave, then I think it’s time I give it to you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about that breathtaking art, huh? Neverending thanks to I_Am_The_Blue_Sunshine for that, and for giving me the inspiration for that scene to begin with. 👏🏻


	3. Part Three: Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell

####  **Dean**

_Fucking finally!_ Dean squirmed under Castiel’s weight, rutting against the metal for any type of friction. He’d be lying if he said he had no interest in being the bottom, but before Cas, he always thought he’d be the top. It was very clear that wasn’t happening, and that realization only made his dick leak inside his jeans. “Gonna have to mojo these clothes outta here, babe.”

“I don’t need you to be naked to satisfy you, Dean.” Cas’ voice was sure and steady, and Dean started seriously having doubts that the angel was as innocent as he let on. He traced a single finger down Dean’s spine, sending a wave of pleasure racing through his veins and straight down to his cock. “I know what happens at the end now,” he said. “I could make you ejaculate into your jeans if I chose to.”

Dean’s laugh was strained, but he couldn’t help it. “Please don’t say ‘ejaculate’, Cas. But yeah... do whatever you want to me.” 

“Mm,” he hummed, gripping the sides of Dean’s jeans and pushing them down to reveal his ass. “Fine, I think I can adopt your language for this.” Two strong, smooth hands cupped his cheeks, spreading him open. “Has anyone ever come inside of you, Dean?”

“Uh... No, never. No one’s ever been inside of me to come there, handsome.” _Just my fingers._ Dean wished he could read Cas’ mind, but it helped that he was so friggin straight forward. “Have you ever come at all, angel?”

A split second passed where Cas seemed unsure, but then he ran the pad of his thumb over Dean’s exposed hole. “No, I haven’t. I suppose this will be a first for us both then, hm?” He pressed his thumb in, and where Dean expected pain, there was only a slight tingle. 

_S’not so bad... hell... feels kinda good._ Dean pushed back slightly, needing more. “Y-yeah, sounds like it. How’s that make you feel? To know this ass is only yours?”

Cas growled again, using his other hand to pin Dean to the car as he pulled his thumb out, then slid two fingers into him. Again, there was no pain, just a... weird feeling, like he was using some kinda magic. “I find I like that thought far more than I should.”

“Good. What is that mojo, huh? Feels... friggin awesome.” Dean groaned and dropped his forehead to the hood.

“It’s my grace, Dean. Biokinesis, to be exact. I can get your body to do whatever I want it to… and right now, I want it to open up enough to let me in.” He twisted his fingers, leaning forward until Dean’s cock was trapped almost painfully against the hood of the car. The combination was fucking intoxicating. “I want to watch you come undone all over the car you loved more than most people.” 

“Jes- fuck. Cas... if you got mojo, lose the fingers and give me that cock. I need... you.” He whimpered so pathetically he instantly tried to wipe it from his memory. “Please.”

A moment later, his ass was empty and the head of a thick cock pressed against his hole. “Hold still.” Cas slowly moved forward, letting out a low groan, and kicked Dean’s legs apart a little further as he slid into him. “That’s… _oh…”_

“Ah, fuck... Cas...” Dean felt like he was having an out of body experience the second Cas bottomed out. No fingers ever came close to this. “Feel so good, angel. Now this is Heaven.”

“My name,” he pulled back and slammed in, “is _Castiel.”_

“Ca- Castiel! C’mon, gotta go harder if you wanna fuck the brat outta me.” His cock was leaking, begging for release.

Apparently, the angel didn’t like to be challenged. He fucked into Dean with a strength no human would ever be capable of, and when he shifted just slightly, he hit a spot inside Dean that set his fucking bones on fire. 

_Fu- Ca- Cas... m’gonna come!_ He slammed his eyes shut and groaned as he emptied all over the hood of his Impala. Coming without touching his cock was something he never knew was possible, but he was already hooked. “Fill me up, angel. Let go for me.”

Instantly, like Cas had already been fighting it off, his thrusts became erratic and he buried himself deep, yelling something in a language Dean had never even heard of. He could feel the hot come spilling inside him moments before he was left empty again, but another cool tingle of grace had Dean healing up. 

Cas ran a hand over Dean’s bare ass and fixed his jeans for him, then stepped back to let him up. His voice was wrecked as he asked, “Does this mean you’ll behave?”

“I dunno. If I behave, will we still be able to do that?” He nodded his head at the hood and then smiled at Cas. “That was awesome.”

“Really?” Cas sounded surprised and a little hopeful, then cleared his throat like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “You have no idea how long I’ll be doing penance for just this one occurance, Dean. If we continue… I’ll never be able to stop.”

_Right..._ “Alright then.” Dean stood there awkwardly, not sure of what to say. He could tell Cas how much it meant to him and how he’s never felt better in his entire life... but he didn’t. If he was wanted, Cas knew he could have him. 

He walked around and climbed in the Impala, waving a hand for Cas to join him. He did, fidgeting with his tie after closing the door. “I’m not saying no.”

"Okay, Cas, I dunno how it was for you, but as a human... it doesn't get better than that. I've ne- never mind." Dean turned the car on and hit the open road. Everything on the tip of his tongue sounded an awful lot like begging, so he opted not to speak at all. Instead, he began to sing Simple Man from memory, not bothering with the radio.

Cas listened, as always, with his eyes glued to Dean’s chest. When he got to the end of the song and fell silent, Cas spoke softly. “Please tell me what you were going to say. I could read your mind, but… I’d prefer not to.” 

Dean blushed, hoping he had gotten out of that one. "Uh nothin', just that it's never felt like that before... but thanks... for not readin' my mind."

“Do you think it was because that was the first time you had interc- _sex -_ in that specific way, or was it… was it something else?”

"Both. I've never been fucked, no, but it was different. I dunno... sex is great. That... that wasn't just sex. I didn't just feel it with my body, Cas... it was more than that. I felt it in my... my soul." _Can we get any lamer? Shut your friggin pie hole, Dean._

Cas nodded, completely unfazed. “I seem to have a strange, and frankly unprecedented attachment to your soul, so… I can see how that would make sense. I have never seen anything like it.” 

"You can see my soul?" Dean looked over curiously. "Did you feel it when we... you know." _And now I'm too immature to say boned, great._

He licked his lips and brought his eyes up, but no higher than Dean’s mouth. “Yes. I could. Do you want to know what it felt like?” 

"Yeah." Dean licked his lips slowly, actually really enjoying Cas' intense, heavy gaze on him. 

Visibly struggling with words, Cas squirmed a little in the seat. “I find I don’t know where to begin. Your soul has more layers than even I could see at first glance. It was… a calm breeze during a sunset, then thunder and lightning. An eternal Tuesday afternoon flying a kite in a gorgeous park, and a vast ocean combating a hurricane. It’s… softness and rough edges, darkness and the most intense, vibrant colors I’ve ever seen. I, myself, am a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, and even I had difficulty not kneeling to its intensity.” 

Dean's ego would have soared, but if it was so great, why was Cas still hanging on to that penance crap? It was then he realized that all of this wasn't just new for Dean, it was brand new to Cas. Cas was being as patient with Dean as he could be, Dean could give some of that back.

"I don't really know what to say... You make me wanna kneel too." _Idiot._ Dean pulled the car over and turned to face the confused angel. "What's it look like right now?"

Again, Cas’ eyes dipped to his chest, and suddenly it made sense that he was always staring at it. “Your soul is more color than darkness right now. It’s… gorgeous, Dean, but it’s still gorgeous even when it’s mostly darkness.” 

_Darkness sounds fitting._ He suddenly pictured five year old him in his ‘I Wuv Hugz’ t-shirt, and wondered what that little boy’s soul looked like... before it was overtaken with darkness. “That color you see right now... you just did that for me. How is it a sin?” he asked, genuinely needing to know.

“First of all, we aren’t married. And second… I tried explaining this already but I don’t believe I did a good job. My role, my purpose, the… entire reason for my creation, was to serve God and serve Heaven. The rules are put in place to stop angels from forgetting their purpose, as intimacy often leads to attachment, and attachment can lead to lapses of judgement or a conflict of interest.” 

"Alright, alright. Got it." Dean looked away, already struggling with the sting of rejection, but how could one measly human break down a wall that was built over centuries. _Your ass isn't magical, Dean. Maybe get your head out of it._ "Alright, I'll just... put on music or somethin'." He leaned down by Cas' legs and started rummaging through his tapes, but Cas grabbed his arm. 

“Dean. I’m _not saying no._ You asked me why it was considered a sin, and I told you. I’ll do penance, I don’t care.” 

"I don't want to be the reason you have to do penance, Cas. I don't want you havin' regrets... especially when I have none. You may only see what God created when you look in the mirror, but I don't. I don't see him... just you." He had no idea if what he was saying made any sense, but how could they ever give - whatever this was - a chance, if Cas felt like it was wrong?

Cas frowned, slowly letting go of Dean’s arm. “I never said I regretted it, Dean. I don’t regret it. I’m trying to tell you that I’ll gladly do penance for the rest of time if it means I don’t have to stop this now that I’ve found it. I’m not sure what else I can possibly give you.” 

"Okay." Dean stared at him, trying to understand while also realizing he'd probably just never understand. It was much easier for him to say ‘screw God’, but for Cas, it was probably near impossible. "I got it, Cas. I'll take what I can get." _How'd this get all chick flicky?_

He relaxed, licking his lips and reaching out to touch the freckles on Dean’s cheek. “This is your Heaven, Dean. What you can get… is virtually whatever you desire.” 

_‘Cept all of you. Gotta share with the big man._ Dean closed his eyes to the touch, trying to remember the last time he was touched this way, and unfortunately, he came up short because no one had _ever_ touched him that way. He found himself tired again, and wondered if it had anything to do with that intense orgasm he had less than an hour ago. "I desire some cherry pie. And... a kiss," his eyes flicked down to Cas' pink, plump lips while he licked his own, "from you."

The car filled with the scent of cherry pie as Cas leaned in slowly, brushing their lips together tentatively. It occurred to Dean that Cas probably had no idea what the hell he was doing, so he leaned in, pressing in to deepen the kiss and show Cas why he wanted it. _Let me in, baby._ Dean slid his tongue inside, climbing over to Cas' sturdy lap and running his hands through his hair.

With a noise much softer than any he’d made before, Cas opened for him, his tongue meeting Dean’s without hesitation. Strong arms wrapped around him and held him close, encasing all of him. 

Dean moaned, wondering if things were so damn good because Cas was an angel, but instantly realizing that wasn't it at all. It was just them. _Was this what it was like with a soulmate?_ He couldn't help but ask himself, not that it mattered. Soulmate or not, Dean wanted this... he wanted Cas. When they finally pulled back for air, Dean smiled down into Cas' bright blue eyes. "You need to do penance for that?"

“Yes,” he nodded quickly. “And a lot of it.” Cas leaned in, kissing him again and folding a hand over his shoulder to steady himself. He tensed suddenly, pushing Dean back with a scared expression. “Dean, I - ” He vanished, causing Dean to fall awkwardly onto the seat of the car. 

"The hell!" Dean gripped the back of the seat and looked around, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "Cas?" He got out of the car but he didn't look around anymore. Deep down, he knew Cas was gone. "Okay, good talk, buddy."

####  **Castiel**

Cas landed unceremoniously on the floor of the throne room. He winced, standing quickly and whirling around, his posture immediately stiffening when he saw the look on Michael’s face. Knowing his place, Cas bowed. “Michael.”

"Castiel." Michael stood and walked closer. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Something about Michael’s posture put Cas on edge, but he stood his ground. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

"You don't?" He tilted his head and then looked down at his nails, as if this was boring to him. "And the pesky human? Would he know what I am talking about? Should I bring him here, too?"

Frowning, Cas stood straighter. “The human is in his personal heaven, as was requested. Surely you’re not taking issue with that?” 

Michael chuckled a humorless laugh as he slid his hands in his suit pocket. "What is your purpose, Castiel?"

_This seems to be the question that keeps getting asked._ “My purpose is to serve my father, to serve Heaven. The same as every angel.” Cas knew Michael knew, but hoped he’d be able to prove that it didn’t change his ability to do his job. 

Something like ice shone in his cold blue eyes as he took his stance before Castiel. "Your purpose... was to keep Dean Winchester in line. Your purpose... was to ensure _my_ sword gave himself over to our father. His heaven you speak of, is temporary. It is but a blink in that infuriating human's story. Dean Winchester was created to serve _me,_ he is the sword needed to strike down Lucifer. Do you understand what you have done?! You have defiled my one true vessel!" When he struck Castiel's cheek, thunder echoed throughout the throne room.

Cas landed with a thud, knowing enough to stay down as the pain receded. _Sword? True vessel?_ “Michael, I was unaware. Perhaps if I’d have known…”

Michael brought his fist down, clashing with the top of Castiel's head. "You are an abomination. You have sinned beyond any chance of forgiveness, and if I could... I would cast you into the flames of hell as Father did to Lucifer."

Crumpling, Cas fought the urge to stand back up as once again, he waited for the pain to pass enough for him to speak. “Dean Winchester… He’s not infuriating, and he wasn’t built to serve anyone he doesn’t choose to. Having him kneel, having him give himself over to me? That was a _gift,_ not a responsibility. He would never serve you, his views - ” 

With a growl, Michael struck him again and then gripped his dress shirt to haul him to his feet. "Stand like the _warrior_ you are. You defend this human over our Father’s word? He was built to serve, as we all were; and the moment you laid a hand on him, you were lost! Do you wish to fall, brother?"

Fear gripped him for the first time. Penance was one thing, but falling? Cas planted his feet, his eyes flicking to Michael’s fist still wrapped up in his shirt. “No, Michael. I do not wish to fall.” 

Michael straightened out his suit jacket and nodded. “I believe you. The first thing you can do is penance. I suggest you beg forgiveness, Castiel. The second, I need to know everything there is to know about Jaskier and his human. And the last, I need you to deliver Dean Winchester to me.”

Cas stayed silent as he weighed those options. The penance, he was prepared for. Begging wasn’t in his nature, but he could do it if it meant retaining his place in heaven. But Jaskier… Jaskier had helped him when he asked, and if this was Michael’s reaction to breaking Heaven’s rules… he didn’t want to be responsible for putting Jask in the line of fire. And Dean? Dean, who didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve to die or to be sent somewhere he wasn’t happy, didn’t deserve to be used… Dean, with his breathtaking soul and quick wit, his undimmable light, his soft lips…No. Michael was pain and retribution and fury, and Castiel would not be handing _anyone_ over to him. _‘If you can die, you should be allowed to live.’_

Dean’s words echoed in his mind, and Cas stood up as tall as he could, knowing quite well that his decision _would_ likely lead to his death. He locked eyes with Michael and clenched his jaw, steeling his resolve. “No.” 

Michael huffed a laugh and tilted his head. “Excuse me? Did you say no? No to what, exactly?”

The engrained, deep-seated desire to obey filled his bones, but Cas didn’t bow. He knew that one way or the other, Cas wouldn’t be leaving that room in any fit state to defend Dean, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be the one to hand him over, to give him to someone like Michael. For once, Cas was making the correct choice. For once… he was choosing humanity. “To all of it. I won’t hand you Dean Winchester, I won’t gossip about Jaskier, and if this is what Heaven is truly like… I won’t beg to remain here, either. You don’t deserve Dean Winchester. None of us do.”

A cold smile crept across Michael’s lips. “Dean Winchester doesn’t deserve me. But I _will_ prepare him for his destiny.” He walked back towards the throne and sat. “Unfortunately... you won’t be there to see it.”

Blinding light and searing pain flooded him, and then everything went black. 

~~~~

Cas wasn’t sure how much time passed before he woke up, but when he did, every inch of his body hurt. It took him minutes, hours, days to get to a point where he could even sit up again, let alone do anything else. Every movement was stiff, every thought sluggish. He knew he wasn’t dead, because in death, he’d have been at peace. 

Instead, two gaping holes resided inside him, and he knew what they were without having to guess. One was heaven itself - Michael had cast him out, and while he’d still have access to its powers, he’d never be able to set foot in his home again, never be able to feel the warmth of the Garden or see the faces of his brothers and sisters. The second was Dean. Somehow, that insolent brat had proven how much more he really was, how deep his worth really ran. He’d learned more about life and living in a few short months with Dean than he had in a billion years without him, and the thought of never seeing that stunning soul again was bringing tears to his eyes. 

Wrapping himself up in his wings should have been a comfort, but instead, all it did was fill him with an even greater sense of sadness. His once white wings were now jet black, and while Cas couldn’t bring himself to lament the change itself or the reasoning behind it, he did understand that he’d now have a reminder of Dean etched into his very makeup for the rest of time - a reminder of the bond he’d fostered with a human he’d never see again. A reminder of what he’d had, and lost too soon.

He wandered the Earth aimlessly for what could’ve been minutes or years, he no longer cared. Time was meaningless to a fallen angel. Cas filled the time with thoughts of Dean, and the events that set him on the path he was currently on. That first meeting that struck him by surprise. The foreign feelings of curiosity and jealousy that sparked in him with each encounter. The power and protectiveness he’d felt in the bar with Dean on his knees. The sex that felt so real, so all-encompassing and _pure_ that he’d be willing to serve an eternity’s worth of penance… and ultimately, the kiss that brought about his end. 

It truly was the kiss that did him in. The intimacy there, the shared trust, the desire for contact. The fire it sparked somewhere deep in the recesses of Cas’ vessel that would likely never go out. He touched his lip, closing his eyes and trying to remember exactly how it had felt when he’d given in, tossed all restraint aside and opened himself up to Dean, but the memory was already slipping away. 

Maybe that was one final punishment from Michael; to not even allow him to keep his memories of Dean. 

Cas found himself kneeling on Dean’s grave without any real recollection of how he got there. The headstone was small, likely all Sam could afford with stolen credit cards and a fake identity, but no headstone in the world could stand as an adequate monument to the life Dean Winchester led. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said aloud. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you find peace. I’m sorry that I wasn’t stronger, that… I won’t be there to stop Michael from taking you. You did so much for the world just for heaven to fail you. For your brother to fail you. For _me_ to fail you.” 

He ran his hand over the dirt. “Your fight is over, as is mine. I don’t know what will become of either of us now, but my hope is that Jaskier will protect you, the way I tried to protect both of you. Life and death are more than just wars to be fought, Dean. You taught me that, and though I don’t know how I’m supposed to use that information now, I’m hoping the reminder will do you some good.” _‘If you can die, you should be allowed to live.’_

Again, the words echoed in Cas’ mind. “You’re right, Dean. You should be allowed to live. If you were here on earth, I could protect you. If you were he-” He broke off suddenly, beginning to dig through the dirt by hand. A frenzied sense of need coursed through him as he started using grace to move the earth, until the beat-up, wooden casket Dean was buried in was visible. 

Cas cracked the lid open and didn’t flinch at the rotting body of who he now knew to be the Righteous Man. “You can be here, Dean. You can be here, you can fight your war, and I can protect you.” He ignored the thoughts in his own mind calling him selfish as he lined his fingers up in the same spot on Dean’s shoulder where they’d been when Michael had taken him, and went to work repairing his broken body. “Soon, Dean. You’ll be home soon. Let’s just hope it’s soon enough.”

####  **Dean**

When Castiel first left, Dean was sad. Within a day, he was angry. Abandonment wasn’t something Dean Winchester was new to, but after what they experienced together, his hopes were high and the second Cas disappeared, those hopes began to fade.

He never could shake that look of fear on Cas’ face a second before he vanished. Was the fear just him realizing how many lines they crossed? Or something much bigger? Dean didn’t know, and the amount of times he prayed was embarrassing. If Castiel was listening, he sure wasn’t answering. 

The first time Dean figured out how to _will_ himself some booze, he nearly drank an entire bottle to himself. It definitely wasn’t as fun as drinking at Ash’s. The bar scene was much more fun than Baby’s lonely backseat but he couldn’t bring himself to leave his Heaven, no matter how angry he was at Cas. _If he comes back, I wanna be here… to punch him in the neck._ Being mad was easier than being sad. 

After a few months, Dean decided he was done waiting around. Something had to have happened to him, something bad. If he knew how to locate the prisons, maybe he could check there for Cas. But with no leads, he went to the one person he hoped could help… Ash.

Sneaking into his heaven was easy as usual, and it was even complete with his favorite bar patrons. “Jask. Ares. Long time, no see.”

Ares smiled warmly, like they might somehow form some angel-lover boy band now that they both knew what it was like to get poked with the _right_ kind of angel blade, and the thought made Dean roll his eyes. “Hey, Dean, where is Castiel?”

“I dunno. Was hoping you guys had seen him.” He plopped on the barstool and nodded at Ash. “Can I get a whiskey, straight?”

“You got it, boss. Extra cherries?” Ash asked while pouring the drink, not meeting Dean’s gaze.

“You’re hilarious, someone get this guy a microphone.” Dean shot back the drink before Ash could even set the bottle down and waved for another. “You seen Cas lately?”

Ash poured and shook his head. “Not since that cherry-popping incident. When’s the last time you saw him?”

“That same day.” Dean frowned and took a long sip of his drink.

“That was months ago, Dean,” Jaskier pointed out.

Dean scoffed and polished off another drink. “Thanks, Captain Obvious. I didn’t even notice.”

“You aren’t understanding, Castiel hasn’t been heard from in months. The rumor is he is hiding in _your_ Heaven, but if you haven’t seen him…” Jask staring in deep thought only worried Dean more.

“Do you think he’s -” Ares began but Dean cut him off. 

“No. He isn’t. He can’t be, I’d know.”

Ares looked at his angel boy-toy and then back at Dean. “But how would you know?”

“I just would, okay!” Ash poured him another drink and then grabbed his laptop, typing away like a maniac in seconds as Dean said, “I would feel it.” _I gotta believe that._ “Don’t you think you would know if _your_ angel was dead?”

Ares flinched at how harshly the words came out and Jask slid his hand down his back. Dean couldn’t attempt to fight the jealousy coursing through his veins. Those two had been together longer than Dean had even been alive, hell, anyone he knew had been alive. How could he ever compare one car hood fuck to what they shared? He wasn’t special, Jask _stayed_ with his human.

Dean sipped this drink much slower than the last few, wondering if he was freaking out for no reason. “He probably just found another human.” The words tasted wrong as he spoke, something deep down in his core knew that wasn’t the case, and based on everyone’s face in that bar… they knew it was wrong, too. 

“I will do what I can to find out. I wasn’t looking, because I thought Castiel had finally found happiness. I will not rest until he is found, Dean.” Jaskier leaned into Ares’ ear, looking as though he was telling him he’d be back and placing a soft kiss to his forehead. 

The cuteness of it had Dean finishing his drink and then running his hands over his eyes. “Okay, thanks, J.” _Thanks for not makin’ me ask._

Before anyone could speak again, the doors burst open and a man with cold blue eyes stood in their place. _Great, another friggin angel._ “Listen buddy, it’s been a long couple months and frankly, we’re ass-full of angels in this joint. Find another bar to crash.” Dean looked over at Jask who was standing much straighter, almost coiled for a fight but he decided to make a joke instead. “At least the last one who barged in here was hot.” 

“Michael.” Jaskier stated and Dean turned to look back at the stuffy angel. 

_Michael. Like_ **_the_ ** _friggin Michael? Great._ “Oh, so this is the bossman, huh?”

“I was told you had a mouth on you. I had hoped your months of solitude would do you well. It seems I was mistaken.” He stayed standing where he was, and Dean was thankful. He didn’t have any weapons that could fight an angel, let alone a damn archangel. 

“Yeah, I’ve been given a lot of compliments on my mouth actually, but I’m not interested.” Dean offered a tight smile and waved at Ash for another round, frowning when he didn’t move a muscle. 

His laugh was cold enough to send a chill up Dean’s spine but he tried to seem unfazed when Michael spoke again. “You are insufferable. Because of you, our brother has fallen. Because of you, our destiny has been tainted.”

_Fallen… Cas?_ As curious as he was, he knew better than to take that bait. “I'm sorry, why are we talking about your taint? And I'm gonna cut you off right there, screw destiny.” Dean stood up, not missing the way Jaskier also took a step forward. _Is he gonna… help me… or Michael?_ He wasn’t sure, so he opted to face both. 

“As it is written, so shall it end!” Michael barked as he slowly approached and Dean realized then that Jask was actually on his side. “Our destiny is to become one. I will deliver you to Naomi and then you will rot in Heaven’s cells until you understand our Father’s will. He will never forgive this blasphemy! Yo-”

“I'm sorry, Michael. Did I give you the impression I cared? About you? About your friggin daddy issues?” Dean stood his ground. “Grab a damn stool. I don’t give a shit what he writes. Reading never was my thing, so how about you do us all a favor here and sing a new friggin song, huh?”

Michael charged, rage etched into every inch of his face, but before he could reach out and grab Dean, everything turned white.

~~~~

The ringing in his ears was deafening and Dean clasped at his head to alleviate the pain, but nothing helped. _What the hell is happening?!_ “Ah fuck!” _Am I dying? Wait… I already died… what the fu-_

“Dean!” 

The voice calling his name sounded a mile away, but even masked by the ringing in his ears, Dean knew exactly who it was. “Cas?” His voice was low and rough as he blinked up, taking in the sights around him. It was hot… Heaven was never hot. The temperature was always annoyingly perfect, but this… Dean could feel the sun on his skin, the hard ground below his body, and the pain down his entire esophagus. He was dying of thirst, but more importantly, he was on Earth. “Cas, what happened?”

“Michael threw me out. I brought you back, Dean. I brought you back to me.” 

His eyes followed that deep, alluring voice and finally found his angel. He was kneeling with the sun shining around him, looking even more beautiful than Dean had remembered. The sight took his breath away. It was then, he realized he was actually breathing. “M’alive?” 

Cas nodded, squeezing Dean’s arm gently then handing him a bottle of water. “You’re alive. I’m sorry it took so long, by the time I felt up to doing it, I couldn’t find your soul. Not being able to go to Heaven made things harder, but… I found you. I will always find you.” 

Dean chugged the bottled water desperately, gasping for air when he finished and then huffing a deep laugh. “Shit... that’s pretty nice timing, Cas.” He laughed again, laying back on the ground and staring up at the sky. _Wish I could see that dick angel’s face now._

“Why?” he asked curiously. “What was happening?”

“You just plucked me from an archangel’s grasp, handsome.” Dean sat up to meet Cas’ eyes. “I hope Jares up there don’t have to feel his wrath, but he was seconds from knockin’ my head from my body. Somethin’ about screwin’ up God’s plan? I dunno, don’t really care, the dude’s a pompous asshat.”

Cas chuckled, nodding. “That is an... apt description. But who is Jares?”

“Jask and Ares. I was at Ash’s lookin’ for you.” Dean broke their gaze. “At first I thought you were just spooked, maybe needed time away from me. Then I thought you just left me… but after a while, I just needed to know you were okay.”

“I wasn’t,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t okay. Michael, he... pulled me from your Heaven and then attacked me. He gave me an opportunity to make things right, but I refused and he threw me out.”

“Why’d you refuse, Cas?” Dean met his eyes again, hanging on to every word.

The angel suddenly looked embarrassed. “Michael wanted information about Jaskier, he wanted me to beg for forgiveness, and… he wanted _you.”_

Dean smiled and braced back on his hands, not quite ready to stand. “Look at you...” He licked his lips, thinking about how adorable Cas looked when blushing. “Alright, Mr. Rebel. What do we do now? Can that feathered fuck just come down here and gank us?”

“He won’t interfere with a living soul. Our laws are absolute. In Heaven, you were technically under his command. But here? He needs your express permission to inhabit your body, and he won’t risk harming you.” Cas licked his lips slowly, sitting next to Dean. “As for what we can do, I would very much like to kiss you again. It has been… a _long_ few months.” 

Dean looked over, his eyes darting down to those gorgeous lips, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah?” He shifted to face Cas better. “It has, hasn’t it. M’right here, Cas.”

####    
  
Castiel

The only word to describe what Cas did next... was pounce. He pounced on Dean, knocking him back into the grass next to his grave and kissing him hard. No finesse, just hungry tongues and a heightened need, though he wasn’t quite sure where it came from. 

Dean opened for him, spreading his legs so he fit perfectly between them. His rough hands slid under Cas’ dress shirt, searching for more of his angel, and before Castiel could even register the desperation behind Dean’s movements, he flipped them.

He straddled his angel, grinding down against his hard erection as he nipped his bottom lip. “How about you mojo these clothes off, baby? Let me show you how much I missed you.”

Cas obliged without giving it a second thought or worrying about where they were. The moment Dean was naked, Cas gasped, his eyes fixing immediately to his shoulder. “Dean…” 

Following his eyes, Dean saw his arm for the first time. “What the shit is that? Is that your...”

Nodding, Cas raised his hand and splayed his fingers out, perfectly lining up with the handprint scar on Dean’s shoulder. “It would seem that by raising you, saving you from Michael... I’ve claimed you.”

Dean looked down at how perfectly his hand fit on the scar and licked his lips. “Sounds kinda kinky. Was it on purpose or just... how it all works?”

“A little of both, I think.” He squeezed, using his grip to pull Dean back down and kiss him, his tongue pushing past Dean’s lips and into his beautiful mouth. He might not have marked him on purpose, but his intent when bringing Dean back was clear - the hunter belonged to _him._

Dean moaned and pulled back, smirking down at the fallen angel. “Open me up with that angel juice... let me show you why fallin’ was worth it.” He didn’t wait for Cas to respond before showing him how much he trusted that Cas would never hurt him by lining up his thick cock and sinking down with a sinful groan.

No matter how long he lived or how many times he was privileged enough to do this, Cas would never get used to the feeling of being inside Dean. He pulled their bodies flush, staring up at Dean’s gorgeous figure as he kept a steady stream of grace flowing through him. Part of him wanted to know what it was like to open Dean up the slow way - the human way - but right now? He was glad for the option to bypass it. “You feel incredible, Dean. So tight around me, I - ” he cut off, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked up almost involuntarily. 

“Good. You claimed this ass, Cas. S’all yours.” Dean bit his bottom lip and slid up and down Cas’ cock painfully slow.

Cas shuddered, pulling Dean down to kiss him and wrapping an arm around his waist to pin them together as he planted his feet and thrust up hard, desperate to feel more of him.

“Feel good, angel?” Dean rolled his hips and left their foreheads flush. “I can feel every inch of you, Cas. Goddamnit, I missed havin’ you inside me.”

And Cas was gone, so, so gone. Dean’s soul was all the more potent for being put back in his body, and Cas was overwhelmed in all the best ways. All he could smell, hear, feel, see, and taste was Dean - and he’d never get enough. He reached between them, eager to bring Dean to the edge after so long of being denied. He stroked him quickly, sending pulse after pulse of grace through his length until Cas could feel Dean clenching around him. 

His wings extended to his sides, and he shivered as the grass tickled his feathers. “Come for me, Dean. You’re mine, and now I want you to prove it.” 

“Ah, fuck!” Dean emptied onto Cas’ chest as he called out his name. He slammed down, grinding himself onto Cas’ cock with a groan and then started bouncing. “Come inside me, Cas. Fill me up.”

Cas stared in awe at Dean and came before he could even think to try and stop it. His eyes flashed with the evidence of his grace and he growled low, gripping Dean’s hips to urge him to move faster until Cas was completely spent. Having Dean here, real, solid… it felt incredible. “You’re amazing, Dean. Truly.” 

“Yeah... you are too.” Dean stayed seated on Cas, gazing into his eyes with his hands resting on Cas’ come-covered chest. “Could definitely get used to this.”

Apparently, being an angel meant that his refractory period was almost nonexistent, and the thought of having sex with Dean again was making him ready to have sex with Dean again at that exact moment. Cas let out a soft whine, hardening inside of Dean as he half-heartedly rolled his hips up. “I’ll never get enough of you.” 

“Already, baby? You got it.” 

When Dean came that time, it was almost as if it caught him by surprise. Cas had long flipped them to fuck Dean into the unforgiving Earth, and it wasn’t until Dean’s fingernails were filled with grass and dirt that he gasped and free fell into orgasmic bliss. The goosebumps down his arms and the small part in his lips sent Cas into his own state of euphoria, and he filled his human for the second time that day.

Cas pulled out a little faster than he’d have liked to, but he didn’t want to overstimulate Dean after just being brought back to life. He kissed him gently, trailing his lips down Dean’s gorgeous skin, planting one to each fingertip on the scar signifying their bond. “Are you alright?”

“More than alright.” He huffed a laugh and stared up at the clear sky. “I can’t believe I’m back. Thank you, Cas. Really. I miss my Baby already, but I... thank you.”

It took Cas several moments to realize what he was talking about, but then it clicked. “Oh! We can go get your car if you’d like. I suggest you put pants on first, as I believe it is still where you left it.”

“Sam didn’t take care of her?” Dean sat up with a frown. “I’ll kick his ass later. Let’s go get Baby, baby.“ He held out his hand for Cas who was still sitting on the ground. “I know I should be worried about shit, or pissed about Sam... but honestly, m’just happy to be alive.”

Having the ability to read minds and sense lies came in handy in situations like this. Dean could posture all he wanted to, but he _was_ worried, and he _was_ mad. Cas accepted the hand up and then gave Dean his pants back. “Are you always like this? Burying emotions so you don’t have to look too closely at them?”

“Okay, Dr. Phill, let’s just go get a damn burger.” Dean pulled his hand back to fix his pants.

“I don’t understand that reference, but I do believe I’m starting to understand burgers.” Cas smiled as he dressed himself and waited for Dean to get situated, then teleported them both to the alley near where Dean had left his car. “Are your keys still in your pocket?”

Dean reached inside and huffed a laugh. “Yup. Looks like Sam was gonna let her die here. M’sorry, Baby. I’m back.” He kissed her frame and opened the door, leaning over to unlock Cas’. The real car was decidedly better than the version from Dean’s Heaven - Cas could feel the rumble underneath his thighs and smell the exhaust, and while the experience would’ve once turned him off, it now did the opposite. 

“I can understand why she was your Heaven,” Cas said. “It’s a beautiful vehicle.”

“Even Heaven didn’t do her justice, huh? Nothin’ like the real deal. She’s gonna need some work but we’ll get to that. How about we find some food and a bed... a real bed.”

Castiel had absolutely no need for sleep, but he wasn’t in a position to deny Dean anything. The bond they’d forged was profound, and Cas found himself nodding, staring hopelessly at Dean. “Yes, of course. Lead the way.” 

Dean was able to get some food and a hotel for the night with some cash he had hidden in Baby’s seats. The noises he made during his shower had Cas thinking the most unholy things, and when he stuck his wet head out of the curtain to ask him to join, Cas was powerless. He stripped, eager to touch his bare skin to Dean’s again, and climbed in. 

If Dean looked good normally, he looked even better wet. Cas swallowed, hardly believing this human allowed him anywhere near him, and reached out for Dean. “You do want this, don't you? Want… me? It’s not just because I brought you back?”

“I wanted you before didn’t I? Trust me, if I didn’t. I wouldn’t be here, Cas. You want this too... right? You don’t like... blame me for screwin’ up your... everything?”

Gently, Cas kissed each of Dean’s cheeks and then his lips, cupping his face as the water cascaded around them. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that before you, I had nothing of worth. I don’t blame you for anything, Dean. I’m grateful to you. You… saved me, every bit as much as I saved you.”

He smiled a boyish grin and then leaned in for another kiss. “Awesome. Turn around and let me wash you, handsome.”

“I don’t sweat, Dean. I don’t need to be…” The look on Dean’s face had Cas trailing off and turning around on the spot, clearing his throat. “Yes, I’m… dirty.” 

“Dirty, dirty boy.” Dean chuckled at his own joke and started cleaning. “Doesn’t it just feel good?”

Cas closed his eyes and focused on the way Dean’s hands felt on him, with nothing but water between them. He nodded, letting out a soft noise. “Yes. I’ve… never been touched like this. Not at all, really, before you… but definitely not like this.”

“Well, good. Just means you’re mine like I’m yours.” Dean ran his pointer finger down where Cas’ wings were tucked in his back, and then leaned in to kiss his skin. Suddenly, Cas was near desperate to have Dean’s fingers sliding through his feathers, and turned quickly to kiss him. 

“We need to get out. Now.” In a blink, Dean was clean and the water was off. “Come on.” 

“Cas... what’s wrong?” Dean grabbed his arm and gazed into his eyes. For a moment, Cas struggled with how to explain what he was feeling. Looking at Dean was enough to set anyone off balance, but Cas? 

He pulled Dean out of the shower and shuddered, letting his blackened wings out. “Touch me, Dean. Wait, not…” Cas looked around, realizing they’d be much more comfortable on the bed. He felt ridiculous for being so insistent, but even the small amount of contact to his wings had Cas desperate for more. He walked out into the main room, using his grace to dry both of them before climbing onto the bed, his wings awkward and hanging over both sides. 

“You mean touch those, right? Cas... they weren’t black before were they?” Dean climbed up behind him and ran his fingers through his wings, watching Cas’ face.

Speech was impossible. Cas leaned back into his touch, letting out a slow, slightly uneven breath. The tips of his wings curled forward, the tops arching back as if they were as eager for Dean as he was. Over and over, Dean’s fingers made gentle passes through Cas’ feathers until the angel was a mess and happy for it. It felt wonderful, like everything with Dean did, and by the time Dean started tugging, Cas was coming untouched all over the sheets and yelling his name loud enough for Heaven to hear him. 

Without giving it much thought, Cas flipped over and took Dean’s cock into his mouth, sucking hard and sliding his tongue until Dean was exactly as undone as Cas was. They collapsed together, Cas’ wings wrapped tightly around Dean to shield him and pin them together, and only then did he answer. “No. They were white, and when I fell, they changed. These wings are as much a mark of you as that handprint is a mark of me.” 

“Well then, I love ‘em... a lot. I can... do that for you anytime, Cas. Kinda like what it does to you.” With a grin, Dean pulled him in for a soft kiss. “Alright, I need my four hours of sleep, and then... we gotta go save my little brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another nice, ambiguous ending, because I’m now rebelling wholeheartedly against the End of the Road.


End file.
